Masked Joy
by Lighted Candle
Summary: Jack, known as the Herald of Winter, wears a mask of ice that makes the other spirits believe he is older. He makes a magical agreement with a dangerous enemy, but except for his protective believers, not one living spirit has seen his real appearance until the aftermath of Easter '68... (This is just a snippet of a story idea I had)
1. Chapter 1

Masked Joy Scene

Disclaimer: I do not own the Rise of the Guardians universe

Storyline: This is a '68 scene of a sliver of a story. It has a darker tone, but I try to make things not too terrible. If continued will be just snippets of the story.

The idea behind it is where Jack was told one more word by the moon before it stopped talking to him, which was the word "Protect...". Pitch is a little more dangerous as he kidnaps lost kids for fear. Jack was given a little instruction in his powers by his fading predecessor and learns that sometimes in order to protect others, you need to be able to be taken seriously (and other times not). Jack therefore hides his youthful appearance behind a mask of being older under a cloak. After the first 50 years of wandering about, Jack discovers Pitch trapping lost children. Pitch is a little amused by the 'minor' threat and agrees to abide by an oath/ agreement if Jack and the children make it out of his hole alive. When Jack wins by an inch (one of the kids was very close to dying), Pitch makes an agreement (when he was about to kill everything in the clearing and Jack stopped him with an offer), not realizing the magic that Jack put into it. The Agreement as Jack's new believers come to call it (both adults and kids) defends the children of Burgess from being preyed upon by Pitch. In exchange, Jack endures a nightmare per kid per year until Pitch or Jack breaks it. If Pitch breaks it, then the magic surrounding Burgess becomes permanent. If Jack breaks it, Pitch can attack Burgess. As time goes on, Pitch tries to find loopholes in the magic. Meanwhile, Jack's believers become very protective of him because of the Agreement. Then '68 happens when Pitch is testing the limits of the binding agreement (because the agreement protects the children of Burgess and not Jack as much-however Jack was once a child of Burgess so the magic stops Pitch from killing or hurting Jack too much.) With Jack's mask, Pitch believes Jack is older and therefore doesn't try to push Jack too much normally. '68 was the first time Pitch physically hurt Jack, but wouldn't be trying that again until the time of the movie when Pitch tries to go rule the world before realizing Burgess is a huge center of belief that he can't attack. (Older scars mentioned below are from territorial spirits Jack defends children from.)

Oh and the other spirits don't know Jack as Jack Frost, they know him as the Herald of Winter. '68 is the first time Jack's mask is revealed to another spirit. Jack and Bunny do become friends after some initial difficulty; Jack doesn't want to tell Bunny about the agreement with Pitch.

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An angry humanoid rabbit leaped out of a hole, sniffing the air. Underneath the tiring blizzard, there was a unique and unfamiliar scent twisted with a fading, almost forgotten familiar odor.

Because of that odor, Bunnymund forced his wild anger to become a more dangerous blade. With all the focus of a predator, the Pooka darted in a streak of furry lightning towards his target, instinctively waiting for any reaction to the unidentified enemy as he closed in.

The aging trail led him closer to the nearest human settlement, making Bunnymund growl. But when he skidded to a silent halt, the scent of dried blood and terror hitting the Pooka like a brick wall. Ears perked in every direction, he heard only one weak labored breath before it hitched. And then the Easter Bunny could see the Winter Spirit who had caused the not quite continental storm on Easter Weekend. But Aster couldn't muster up any of the grudge he had been forming before. The being, dressed in shredded blue rags was curled up in a snow drift against the root system of a Oak. His former anger soon turned to distress as glazed blue eyes shot open and their owner whimpered. The Easter Bunny instantly hid his mostly forgotten weapons and focused on making himself as harmless as he could. Bunnymund was certain that this was a newer spirit, as he had only heard whispers of the Herald of Winter. However, he had not expected the rumored territorial being to be so... _tiny_. And, it cut a couple of the pooka's heartstrings to see this avatar of snow flinch as the ancient bringer of hope crept a tiny bit closer. Bunny hummed an ancient lullaby and inched forward as the spirit relaxed. Eventually, Bunnymund had gotten close enough to scoop the injured stranger carefully into his arms. Bunny raised an eyebrow when the younger of the two relaxed even further at the furry touch instead of fidgeting or protesting. Dismissing the observation for the moment, Bunny tapped his foot and dropped down a hole, the wind whistling above them.

Bunny winced as his armful mewled softly when Bunny's hind legs impacted the ground a touch too roughly. "Sorry Snowflake." he apologized as the pooka sped off through his tunnels, into his warren, into his home and finally into his almost never used medical room. Somehow Bunny managed to put a new sheet down before setting the feather-weight dazed Herald of winter down. As he drew away, the younger spirit weakly protested. "I'm right here Snowflake, I'm just getting some supplies. Like an ice pack." Bunny soothed. Bunny started by gently inspecting Snowflake's scalp. There was an old icy pattern in the form of an old bruise caused by blunt trauma. Fortunately, other than the one bruise, which was thankfully just a bruise and not anything worse; Snowflake's skull seemed fine. It was, however, a surprise to see some ice melt off of the sprite's features revealing that Snowflake was in no way an adult spirit contrary to common belief. Shaking off his surprise, the gray-blue pooka then carefully removed the boy's old shreds of clothing. Bunny would just have to find a new hoodie for the spirit to wear later. The pooka growled softly when he could finally see the injuries that were at various stages of healing on the youth's back and even older scars. Snowflake couldn't possibly be more than 500 years old! (Which was still a young kit as far as any pooka would be concerned, although they did note that most other species mature faster.) Snowflake whimpered and tried to curl up, but a quick instinctive soothing snuffle to the boy's forehead calmed the child almost instantly. As gently and quickly as he could, the pooka cleaned the lacerations, scowling more at the few marks that were inflamed with infection. Snowflake twitched in discomfort as an antiseptic ointment was applied and then hummed as the lingering pain became a numbed comfort. Soft breaths evened out. Bunny glanced up for a moment before sighing, "Finally asleep little ankle bitter? Probably for the best." The Easter Bunny took a deep breath before he stitched up the deeper, non-inflamed whip marks. He finished, wrapping Snowflake's back in bandages. Bunny left the room to go clean out a guest room. He didn't notice the wisps of wind twisting around the Winter Herald's hair.


	2. The Agreement

Masked Joy

Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians

Author's note: I almost made this a cliff hanger in so many places. So tempted, but alas for me it was not to be. I titled this with the intention of explaining how Jack got his first believers.

The agreement didn't turn out quite the way I wanted. But it seems okay.

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chapter two: The Agreement

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It was fifty years since the Herald of Winter had risen from his lake, lifted out by the power of the moon. The Man on the Moon had given Jack his name and his mission. It was five years since Old Man Winter, the Herald's teacher and mentor, had passed on.

No spirit now existing on Earth, save the incorporeal Wind, had seen Jack Frost's true face. A couple knew of his name, but with the exception of Tsar Lunar (also known as the Man in the Moon or Manny), no one put together the Herald of Winter, the spirit who had taken control of the Winter season, with the relatively unknown Jack Frost listed quite often on the naughty list.

The Herald of Winter's face was not an ice carving per-say, but that of a powerful man in his prime, ice only lightly highlighting his adult facial features. Unlike his predecessor, he favored mortal children, going so far as to ask his more faithful and benevolent followers to protect them from harm. Children, those that could not be saved from Winter's chilly bite, that were on the verge of death were to be given a peaceful passing. Because the children rarely believed in the various Spirits, the children couldn't be guided to a new home or be adopted instead if there was any hope. Not that it stopped the Herald from trying to save them. The Herald would quietly morn each soul he knew, mortal or otherwise, that passed on. It was more than most immortals cared to do.

Had he asked or even commanded the entirety of the Spirits under his 'rule', most if not all would have likely refused. The more malevolent would have sought to raise the death toll of Winter to spite the Herald. The impassive neutrals would have done nothing, save it was in their own interest. And the 'benevolent' would have lost respect for their 'leader'. After that would come the glory and power seekers seeking to 'dethrone' the 'king'. Not that there was a Winter Court. There was one for the fae, but they mostly kept themselves hidden in their home lands. The leader of the Winter Immortals was mostly just a formal title save for in times of war or dispute. But what even most Winter Immortals forgot was that the leader was always chosen by the essence of Winter. It was not something that could be dueled for. But many tried anyway and as the Herald of Winter, with Winter's full blessing behind him, Jack wiped the competition away. His favorite punishment was to not to kill as Old Man Winter preferred, but to remind the Immortals how mortal they could be. After the reminder, if they still tried to attack mortals like monsters, they were brought down like monsters.

The gossip of the various Spirits described the Herald of Winter thus: He rarely outright smiled, lips only barely twitching with hints of levity in his brightest of moods. At his most thunderous, his wrath is like an Arctic storm: hail, sleet, and icicles targeting anyone so foolish to challenge him. However, he was mostly just a mysterious hermit.

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Jack roamed the Winter woods of Burgess, decked in his Herald's ice, for that is how Jack described his serious and sneakily taller masked self. The woods surrounding his place of birth were quiet, save for the crunch of snow from the occasional animal footsteps. He would have preferred hearing laughter and playing games, but unless he wanted to be targeted again for playing a prank or two (even if he hadn't done it) by some irked sprite or risk drawing unwanted attention from the 'Legends', Jack Frost had to remain disguised as the Herald of Winter. He was still secretly recovering from a beating when he nearly exposed himself. The 'mature' Herald could handle fifty attackers, but it would be suspicious if 'young' Jack Frost could also handle more than five at a time. So Jack dealt with the occasional beating, learning dirtier fighting methods and tricks that he could use in an emergency if he was ever caught without his staff. Oftentimes, Jack would fall limp, pretending to be knocked out. In reality his ice would protect him from the most harmful blows. If they left him alone after that, great. But if they tried taking him somewhere, Jack would spring an impromptu snowball ambush along the way and escape. He felt like he was on his way to becoming a pretty good escape artist.

In the distance, Jack heard excited small yips greeting a returning mother or father. It filled his imagination with longing. He touched the wood of nearby trees, watching as ice pictures of animal families tumbled or leaped through fields. Prodding his injuries, Jack decided to wait for freedom of expression for one more day, disappearing in a flurry.

Only the Wind knew where Jack actually slept. Most supposed he slept on tree branches as nomad Jack Frost. It was truer than the gossip of where the Herald's ice castle might be. Jack however only dozed on branches, hardly ever falling into a deep restful sleep. He didn't have a castle. Jack wrapped blankets of thick clouds around him, guarded by the never-sleeping wind and the light of the Moon.

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The next day came sooner than Jack wanted once he actually fell asleep. But it was nice to wake up in lightly heated frost blankets. Being the winter weather smith or shepherd that he was, Jack knew that the cloud would dissipate unless he strengthened it. Jack sleepily did so and settled back to rest. A couple hours later he stirred. Testing his injuries once more, he was content to find them mostly healed. Jack dropped his 'mask', allowing the ice hiding his true features to fade away as the Herald of Winter became cheerful Jack Frost once more. The skies were the best hiding place from other inquisitive or demanding Immortals, partially because even Immortals sometimes forgot to look up, but mostly because most Immortals couldn't fly.

Jack laughed as the Wind scooped him up and then they played 'free-fall' until Jack skimmed his feet on the tops of snow laden trees. They switched games to a version of hide and seek.

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Jack chuckled as the Wind tackled him in a airy hug. "Alright alright. Why do I try and play hide and seek with... air... never mind. Granted, you're more than just 'air' but you're there, there... and there. Simultaneously."

A child's screeching wails had Jack arming up in the seconds that the Wind hurtled him to the source. After all, the Herald had a better chance of saving the kid. "No! Nonononono! Mommy! Daddy! The shadows-!"

Jack's icy face hardened as he arrived, spotting shadows dragging a mortal child of Burgess closer to a deep, dark hole in the ground. The boogeyman had probably invented the cliche villain's lair, Jack idly mused even as he shouted, "Hold on Stern!" Not that the child could hear him. The Herald iced the shadow limbs, the blonde haired boy breaking free. Instead of immediately running, as any other kid or adult would have done in their panic, Stern gasped and glanced about. Spotting the ice that hadn't been there before, Stern swallowed. Feeling the Wind itself trying to push him back to Burgess, Stern whispered a plea,

"Please-! If anyone is there, save my sister and the other lost kids from the Shadows!" Stern finally scrambled away.

The Herald grasped his staff harder. He had paled to the point of translucency. It was one thing to fight the odd shadow... but the facing the Boogeyman himself was a distinct possibility. Even Old Man Winter had feared fighting the man/ Spirit/ whatever. Let alone facing the Nightmare King in his own cavern. It was suicidal for even Immortals. But kids were involved, kids from Burgess.

Jack jumped into the hole.

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Pitch's lair wasn't just spooky and creepy, it was downright disturbing. His light, a crystal mounted at the top of his staff, revealed only when Jack was playing the Herald, pierced the shadows obscuring the Labyrinth. Jack wondered if he could become incorporeal; underneath his armor Jack's skin was just that see through. Now able to see a short distance, Jack spotted bones pressed into the earthen walls. Well the walls were more shadow than dirt. Most remnants of the former living were adult sized whether human or animal. It was the smaller bones that filled Jack with the most disquieting dread. Jack waited for the Wind to direct him as he fiddled with the crystal on his staff, knowing that unknown beings were watching him from inside the shadows. The Wind pulled on Jack's hair, prompting Jack to drift 'accidentally' into a certain tunnel. Jack had a feeling that it was important to not let the creatures in the dark to know that he could navigate the shadows beyond the circumference of the lit up area around him. The crystal light left other spirits baffled when they assumed it was the Herald's power source and tried to steal it; when really, it was just a magical lantern. Yet, it was more useful than Jack had anticipated.

Jack cautiously looked into three tunnels, pointedly ignoring the fourth. The wind tugged on his white locks near his left ear. Jack made a discrete show of confusion before shrugging his shoulders and going down the tunnel on his utmost left. The Herald's sweat grew as his The wind would tug on his bangs before leading Jack down the occasional 'detour'. Jack knew if any of the kids lives were in immediate danger, there wouldn't have been any 'detours' at all. He didn't partially trust many, but the Wind was the only one he trusted completely after the first time he had been betrayed as a new Spirit. Even Old Man Winter had tried to kill Jack occasionally when Winter picked Jack as his successor.

Eventually Jack could hear whimpers of restless sleep. Speeding up and turning a corner, Jack skidded to a halt.

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"The Herald of Winter. I'm honored." Pitch drawled, smirking rather menacingly.

"I came for the children." Jack's voice was as harsh as his mask.

"The children are mine. I found them, lost in the woods." Pitch eyed the Herald, "They can't even see you, can they? It hurts and yet you fear failure over being alone."

"No child deserves this." The Herald snarled, ignoring Pitch's ability to prod his fears awake.

"Hmm... perhaps. Their fear is so... sweet. Don't they deserve this? After all no one is fighting for them... specifically so they must not matter."

Jack stiffened, "They do matter! I came!"

Pitch scoffed, flicking something shadowy over the children, sighing in satisfaction when whimpers increased into pleas, "You? A poor substitute for power of any of the guardians. Which is interesting... isn't it. That not even one of the Guardians are here to save them." Pitch circled the now screaming and begging children, taunting Jack.

The Herald paused, he couldn't remember who the Guardians were but he'd give them a tongue lashing or head bashing later for letting their guards down against such a subtle foe. His eyes lingered on the tormented children even as he tried to keep track of his foe, "Even the Man in the Moon can't see everything."

Pitch snickered, "Isn't that the truth." Jack felt like he had missed some meaning in the Nightmare King's words.

"How about a deal?" The Herald almost blurted, instead catching himself and asking as if it didn't matter. Although both Immortals knew that it mattered very much to the Herald.

"I could just ignore it." But Pitch looked interested, which could be either a good thing or a bad thing.

"But you're bored of the same interactions over and over." The Herald interpreted in a burst of insight, "You have the same minions, the same walls, the sameness of boredom."

Pitch quirked an eyebrow, as if to say, '_Go on_'.

Jack's fear was overruled by his determination, "We make a binding magical agreement. You rarely feed off of another Immortal's dreams as they are usually too well protected. You agree to leave the children of Burgess alone and in exchange for each child's safety... I will let you give me nightmares once a year."

Pitch scoffed, "So. You are in my lair. I can do that anyway."

"Yes, but how much stronger would your power grow from one willing Immortal nightmare?" The Herald pressed.

Pitch paced thoughtfully, examining the Herald critically. "Agreed..." Pitch nodded slowly, "Provided you and the children survive leaving my lair." He grinned nastily, waking the children up from their terrors, "I'll even give you a minute head start trying to get non-believers to follow you." Pitch wrapped himself into the shadows.

Not wasting a moment of breath once Pitch had agreed, because it could or would be a devil's faux agreement, Jack darted forward to the three children. The Herald hissed in dismay and pain as his hand's passed through the terrified children.

"Thirty seconds...! What are you going to do when they don't believe in you?" Pitch snickered.

_I may be invisible and intangible, but-! _The Herald made a solid wall of ice that sent the trembling and not quite awake children scrambling away from him as the thin ice dogged their footsteps. Unfortunately that seemed to have increased their terror to Pitch's delight.

"Ah." Jack could imagine Pitch sniffing the air, "You could so easily disregard these children and save yourself."

"Never." The Herald vowed and gritted his teeth as one of the children fell, causing another to fall over. _This isn't going to work, we'll never get out of here like this..._

"Tic-Toc. And five, four-"

Jack broke his ice wall, using the ice fragments to reflect his light into a larger area even as he froze the floor under the children solid, pushing a sheet of ice off the ground. It scooped the children up into an icy toboggan, Jack freezing the way as the Wind pushed them along.

When the first of many shadows flitted into the dimming light, the Herald used his staff to shoot alternatively spear bolts or lighting waves of ice to ward them off. In the meantime, he sprinkled flakes of joy onto the children. Hopefully the shadows wouldn't latch onto their trail so quickly with the children's fear dampened. Encouraged and heartened by the hesitantly increasing laughter, Jack sped them on faster and faster, careening around corners with dangerous dexterity.

But on one turn, Jack and the sleigh full of children slammed into a wall, sliding down with screams of pain and fright. Jack stumbled onto his feet, waving away his dizziness. A lance of awful despair pierced Jack's armor as a creature of shadow rushed towards them and crushed the light crystal, sending them all into darkness. Fortunately, the Wind was an entity that couldn't be blinded. Nudging the Herald's hand, Jack immediately responded. Instantly the nearest shadows were iced and shattered, the Herald silently cheered. But the Herald was unable to ignore the skip in his heartbeat when his hand passed through Boe, Stern's younger sister. As his immortal eyes adjusted to the darkness, Jack formed a ball around the children, inside of which the children sat dazed on a free platform. The Herald and the Wind pushed the hollow sphere (in the far future would be described as a hamster ball), pushing the sphere until Jack was tackled by a solidified shadow. The Herald stifled a scream as something pounced on Jack's leg, breaking it. Jack blasted his surroundings with magical ice. He heard something shatter, then the children wailing in pain, echoing his soundless scream. The Herald swallowed, _Had he hurt them?_

Jack ignored his own pain and flew to the huddling panicking children. The Herald's heart shied away from the bleeding cuts littering the children's skin. He almost froze himself when he realized that Boe was not moving, barely breathing. Shaken, the Herald of Winter barely understood the Wind's message that the exit wasn't far from where they were at.

Disoriented, the Herald didn't notice Pitch's form reappear. "Tick, tock. One of the children, Boe was it? Is dying and it's all your fault. You have failed."

"No." Jack denied softly, shaking his head in horror. He was further distracted by a shuddering whimper from Boe even as the other children cried and pleaded her to stay awake. Then Pitch was there, choking the Herald. Instinctively, Jack fought back with a few tricks, starting with turning his neck into his shoulder so Pitch's hands couldn't crush his windpipe so easily. Ice flash froze the Boogeyman's hands, Jack elbowing and then kicking some distance between them. Pitch lashed back, sending Jack tumbling backwards. The Herald was surprised to tumble _into_ a child rather than _through_ him or her. Encouraged, Jack hopped back upright in a defensive posture.

"I am not done yet!" Jack growled, panting slightly, "I _will_ get them home."

"But will they be alive. It's not even my fault that red liquid is coursing down her limbs, she's already lost too much for such a little body. And it's all your fault that your suggested deal is off."

So much for wearing armor. The Herald felt bruised by each word of venom. It wasn't completely true off course, there was something besides the ice in the wounds, looking like black pieces of shadow that had broken off while attacking the children. But Pitch was good at mixing the truth and lies. Too well really. As it was however, Jack tried to hold off his feelings of devastation that he had caused harm to mortal children. If he didn't focus Boe and the other two children, James and Holly, would die.

"What do you mean the deal is off?" The Herald hissed, "All of us are so far alive."

"Are you? I heard that Winter Spirits could only touch the mortal dead." The Herald flinched, unable to hide his horror.

But Boe wasn't dead yet, the Herald disproved Pitch's lie with a glance. Boe and the other children still breathed faint clouds of air. Gathering his power, the Herald grimly blasted Pitch and his minions. Pitch avoided the blast by using the shadows, but was delayed long enough that Jack could maneuver the children to the exit with his icy inventions.

"Almost." Jack breathed as he pushed the ice up through the opening, the children rolling onto the ground. Quickly the Herald cleaned Boe's severely infected injuries with magical ice that was more numbing than cold.

The Herald's blue eyes widened to almost comical shock as Boe's eye's met his, "Angel?" Boe whispered with a whimsical smile. Jack had forgotten that in order for his ice to purify another, they had to be able to see and touch him. _She saw him!_

"Don't fall asleep yet Boe. You're brother wants you home first."

"Stern?" Boe's eye's brightened. The Angel made the owies not hurt anymore. Did her brother know him?

Boe and the other children whimpered as they saw the shadow man arise out of the hole in the ground, phasing through the Herald's shadow. "I won." Jack snarled at the Boogeyman in a defensive position, protecting the lost children of Burgess.

"So you did." Pitch said with a little speculatively but mostly dismissal. He was annoyed that the Herald had succeeded in getting the children out alive. But doubtless, the Herald was still only a minor threat as the younger Spirit was so ragged after only a few hours of fighting in the dark for such a small bet. Not to mention a potential power source beyond children.

"And? Will you agree to a magical agreement?"

Had not Pitch been so temporarily tolerant or... amused (he had been hit by Jack's magic at some point) by this lesser Immortal, the Herald would have ended up in heaps of trouble. "For now." Pitch inspected the quivering children, smirking vengefully, "You're offer... would relive some boredom."

Jack nodded grimly, slicing his hand with a swift edge of fingernail ice. "I, Herald of Winter, magically promise to give Pitch Black, the Boogeyman one nightmare not exceeding the duration of twenty-four hours once a year, in exchange for the safety of mind, body and soul of the children of Burgess. Should I break this agreement by failing to to provide opportunity for the nightmare, justice and magic will make this Agreement void. Should Pitch break the Agreement and attack or steal the children of Burgess, justice and magic will protect the children and no more nightmares are needed from me to power this agreement." The Herald held his breath, he had taken a chance assigning punishments to both of them. He was making this up as he went. But the Agreement wouldn't take if Pitch didn't agree with at least a few drops of blood.

Pitch sneered, using a dagger of shadows to cut his hand, "I agree to not attack or steal the children of Burgess for the exchange of one willing Immortal nightmare or equal dosage of fear from the Herald of Winter per year. If the Herald tells another Immortal of our agreement, this agreement is broken."

And... that was it. The exposed blood healed immediately, the red cuts smelling heavily of magic.

"I expect to see you on the next night of no moon." Pitch smiled predatory at the Herald and vanished.

Jack blinked and staggered as he noticed the three mortal children clinging to him, "You can see me?" he asked bewildered.

"You saved us." James smiled up at the disguised older boy.

"Angel? What's that?" Boe tugged on Jack's leg, reminding the Herald of his broken bone suddenly. The adrenaline had made him forget, but now the pain throbbed even as he remained dazed and distracted by his new believers.

"Angel? There are light's coming." Holly whimpered, hiding behind Jack.

The Herald held out his staff once more, before relaxing as he strained his ears, "It's your families."

The children perked up, "Mom and Dad?" James asked.

"Probably just your dads." Jack amended, "Your moms and siblings will likely be 'holding down the fort' just in case." The Herald hissed as Boe tugged on his leg again. With a strained smile, Jack knelt down to the height of the three children, "Boe, can you not tug on my leg please?"

"Why? Do you have an owie?" Boe asked innocently.

Jack grimaced, "Yes, I have a rather big owie."

"Then mommy kiss boo-boo and make it better." Holly nodded bossily.

The Herald choked on a half-laugh/ half-sob, "I'm afraid it's going to be a bit more difficult to heal than that. You see, it's not likely that your parents will be able to see me."

"Why not? We see you. There's no darkness to hide you." James tilted his head.

"Unless they believe in me, they can't see me." Jack explained.

"Oh." James thought on it as voices approached the clearing.

"How far away are we from the creature's lair?" A gruff voice asked.

"Just around this tree..." A younger voice replied.

"Stern? Mr. Cress?" James eyes snapped over to the new people as they appeared from the brush. Mr. Cress was the school teacher and James found himself glad to see the sophisticated giant. He was a lot kinder than the man of darkness.

"Stern!" Boe tried to take a step towards her brother but stumbled, "I- I 'an't wal'." Boe stared at her legs. She knew they were there, but they weren't working!

"Boe?" Stern was the youngest member of the search party, "Dad, come here! It's Boe!" His father's steps earthquaked the earth, bursting into the clearing. His father outran him, plucking Boe from off the ground and cradling his baby girl close. Bluejacket Watercraft looked ready to supply Burgess with a salty lake as he shakily touched each faint freckle on Boe's face, bushing off snow.

"Daddy!" Boe shrieked in happiness, reaching to touch Bluejacket's darker freckles above his beard, counting off as she poked each one, "One for mommy, one for me, one for Stern, one for the Sun, one for the sea, one for the moon, lots for stars and one for Angel!"

Bluejacket smiled joyously even as his tears became trickling waterfalls of ice, "My baby girl. My baby girl."

"Who's Angel?" Stern asked.

Unseen save to three, Jack coughed, "It's the Herald of Winter actually."

"Angel saved us!" Holly pointed to Jack from Mr. Cress's arms.

"He says his name is Herald of Winter." James explained, "He's invisible unless you believe in him."

Mr. Cress raised a doubting eyebrow, "Invisible?"

More men armed with bows and arrows or guns cautiously entered the clearing, having followed the shouts of excitement.

"Papa!" Holly wiggled in Mr. Cress's arms reaching for Mr. Bear, "Papa! Papa!"

"My Holly Berry!" Mr. Bear caught his daughter before she fell out of Mr. Cress's arms, quickly checking every inch of her for injuries. He found a couple of cuts and bruises but other than that she was fine. "You're okay." her father breathed, "You're not allowed to get lost ever again, you hear me Holly Berry?"

"Yes Papa. No getting lost." Holly snuggled into her father's coat.

"Father!" Even though he was getting too big to be picked up, James appreciated the piggy-back ride all the same.

"So what's this about an angel?" Bluejacket Watercraft asked the children.

"He helped escape from Itch!" Boe explained. The Herald tried to cover up a guffaw with a cough of merriment. An Itch indeed.

"He's the Herald of Winter."James yawned drowsily, "He saved us from the bad shadows."

The men stiffened, "And where is this invisible Angel?" Mr. Cress inquired.

"Right there!" Boe pointed.

Perhaps it was the magic of the agreement lingering in the air or the magic of children but soon there was an intake of breath from two of the adults, "My word!"

Instinctively Mr. Bear aimed his gun, "Stay where you are!"

"No! Papa don't shoot Angel!" Holly protested.

The Herald made a face, "I prefer Herald. Pleasure to meet you sir. If you can really see me that is." The Herald scooted to the side, dragging his broken limb along.

"It's Mr. Bear, not sir. I work for a living. What's wrong with your leg?" The well built man eyed the Spirit's obvious limp.

"It's broken. Now that the kids are safe, I need to find wood for a splint." The Herald rose in the air, ready to hobble away. But he couldn't help glancing back, marveling at the number of mortals that could now see him. The number of adults who were gaping at him were astonishing. Jack remembered his teacher saying that _'once gained, belief spreads rapidly.' _Jack had slightly doubted Old Man Winter, but here was proof enough for him.

"I can help with that." James's neighbor gruffly lumbered over, "It's easier with a second person."

"Are you sure? You've got families to return to."

"Aye. But if it weren't for ya Spirit, these families would've lost their littl'uns." James neighbor's brown eyes met Jack's blue ones. The Herald swallowed, looking rather shocked,

"You would help me?"

"Yes. It's the least I can do for James's safety. Don't you have a family Spirit?"

"If I did, I don't remember them." The Herald admitted and despite his mask, looked rather young and sad, "All I know is that this town is the closest spot to where I was born."

"...I'm sorry for your loss. Let me help you. It's the least I can do."

"Alright." Jack hesitantly followed the man. Another adult followed as the other group began to leave. Once they were away from the other kids, James's neighbor found some adequate splints,

"Do Spirits feel pain like mortals?"

"I imagine so." The Herald warily admitted.

"Then bite on this. I'm going to have to put the bone back in place. In five, four, three, two-!"

Jack yelped and breathed heavily while James's neighbor splinted his leg together. So much for his armor, "Thank you." The Herald grunted when he could speak again.

"You're welcome mate!"

"What are your names. I know you are James's neighbor."

"You've been watching us?" The unknown adult bristled.

"Well yeah. After all my snowfall duties are taken care off, I often stay nearby my lake."

"Me name's Thomas Marshall and that's me brother Markus." James's neighbor explained, "Light'n up Markus."

"Hello." Markus said briskly, "I'm not fond of Spirits, so don't expect me to like you."

"You can see me. That's enough for me." The Herald grinned at the brothers, "You wouldn't be the Marshall brothers that stole a pirate ship would you?"

"Hah! Our tales of adventure still spread even while tied to the land." Thomas cheered. Marcus shook his head and sighed,

"It was his fault." Marcus growled.

"Don't mind me brother. He gets sea sick." Thomas informed Jack in a loud whisper.

"Does that apply to lakes?"

"Yes." Marcus said shortly, "Why's that important?"

"So you don't ice skate?"

"Do I look like I risk my life for frivolous entertainment?!" Marcus demanded, "I am satisfied with solid ground too much to be caught twirling on frozen water!"

"I used to ice skate in my youth." Thomas ignored Marcus, pointing to his girth, "The ice isn't thick enough for a man of my age. Marcus used to as well. He's gotten prickly with age."

By the time the Marshall brothers and the Herald reentered Burgess, there were even more children and adults that could see the third member of the chatting trio. In the Herald's delight, he found himself forgetting his injured limb until it was jostled.

/

/

* * *

/

/

Later that week a new spirit was seen hovering around the town, much younger than the Herald.

"Who are you?" Mr. Bear aimed his gun at the unknown teenager.

"This again? You're very attached to your guns aren't you." The white haired spirit remarked, easing away from being the target.

"Herald?" Mr. Bear lowered his gun an inch.

"Shh!" Jack hurriedly glanced about, "There aren't many friendly Immortals about. I'm Jack Frost. The difference is quite important."

"Pleasure to meet you then Jack Frost." Mr. Bear shook aka crushed the teenager's hand. Jack winced.

"You've got a strong grip Mr. Bear."

"Comes with the job."

"What's your job?"

"I'm a gunsmith Mr. Frost."

Jack winced again, "It's Jack. My disguise is for when I'm taking care of 'adult' matters. It doesn't matter if you're fifty or two hundred for an Immortal. It's hard to be taken seriously when you look like a teenager. Well if I am the age I look, I am a teenager, but still! And it's hard to play with other kids when you look like an adult."

"You're a mischief maker aren't you?"

"Yep! Just not the harmful kind. I enjoy making everyone laugh." Jack bounced a little in his enthusiasm.

"Just keep an eye on my daughter. Ever since she was rescued from the woods, she's become rather injury prone."

Jack brightened, "I can do that. Is there anything else I can help you do?"

"Go spread your cheer." Mr. Bear waved a little bemused as Jack saluted him,

"Will do sir!"

"And I'm not a sir! Of any sort!" Mr. Bear yelled back.

"Just being polite Mr. Bear sir!" Jack laughed as he flew away.

"Young rascal." Mr. Bear scowled as he turned back to his latest creation. Even so, his lips were slightly quirked upward as he examined the scope. It wasn't quite lined up properly.


End file.
